


Creep

by dokidad



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Disorder, Depression, Falling In Love, Friendship/Love, Love, M/M, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Denial, Smoking, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 00:33:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1408405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dokidad/pseuds/dokidad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry likes drinking black coffee and smoking Marlboro 100's. Louis drinks tea with a spot of milk, and doesn't really take smoking to his fancy. Harry is the less fortunate struggling musician who works at the local bakery, playing late nights at the local pub for an extra spot of cash. Louis is the fortunate design student who has everything to live for. Harry unfortunately, does not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Ahh, first Larry Stylinson. Don't kill me for the awful that is going to be this fic plz. K.thx.bye.

When they met it felt almost normal. Strobes clashing against walls, in the background the bass flaring. Harry didn't mean for it to happen, the clash almost sending him face first with the floor. He straightened himself and sighed. 

"Sorr-" was all he managed upon the soft features, a young blonde looking up at him from the dirty floor. Harry instantly felt his cheeks blush, and though he tried he didn't hide it well.

"So sorry love," he tried again, regaining his cool and holding out his hand for support. "I'm Harry."

The blonde tentatively grabbed his hand, and all too fast he was brought back to his feet. 

"I'm Louis."

The air was awkward. Not much was said between the two of them, Harry realizing he was still holding Louis' hand. He let go of it, quickly placing his hand behind his neck.

"Sorry again," Harry said trying to ease the tension. "You aren't hurt, are you?"

"Well my arse hurts, but it's not anything I can't handle." Louis managed with a playful smile, and Harry thanked god for that.  

Conversation came easier.

"So do you go here?" he asked, not quite managing to meet Louis' eyes. 

"Yeah actually. Third year Design. You?" 

Harry shyed away a bit.

"No, I've got a flat in London. A friend invited me here... then dumped me. Been tryna get back to him.." 

"Maybe I could help?" Louis tried after a while. "What's his name?"

"Niall."

"Niall?!" Louis asked incredulously. Harry nodded his head, not quite sure what to say.

"So you're that Harry." Louis said with a laugh, having noticed Harry's uneasiness. That unfortunately didn't help much as Harry's lips fell into a tight frown.

"You know Niall?"

"Been knowing the bloke since second year. Guy sure knows how to party..." he trailed off, Harry still didn't understand.

"He talks about me?"

Louis gave him a small smile. "All good things, yeah. Been wanting us to meet you for months."

Harry felt his cheeks redden. He had only met Niall two months ago when he put the ad on the net for a roommate. He honestly didn't think Niall considered them that close.

"Us?"

"Oh surely he's mentioned us," Louis started, but Harry's confusion didn't falter. "Us. Me, Zayn, and Liam."

Harry didn't even try to pretend he understood. Louis just sighed and gave him a bright smile.

"I love this song!" he yelled after a while, taking Harry's hand and dragging him from the crowd of drunks to the nearly vacant dance floor. Louis continued to stay a bubble of smiles as he coaxed Harry into dancing through the song with him.

When the song ended, awkwardness was of ease, and Harry realized he hadn't really been listening to the song. Louis seemed worn out, breath coming out in heavy puffs as he held onto his sides. Had they really danced that hard? It hit him as he finally remembered to breathe. He soon too was clenching at his sides, gasping for air. When he got lost remains a mystery to him.

-

The smoke came out in long puffs, floating up to be with the crescent moon, cigarette tip illuminating the room. Harry sat down on his window sil, inhaling the smoke and thinking. He did this often when he couldn't sleep. His curls sitting wet against his forehead as he carded a lazy hand through them.

Harry never did find Niall that night. It wasn't until earlier when he was stumbling into his flat, a drunken mess, that he even remembered he existed. 

One thing he did remember though, electric blue eyes and a pretty smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry likes drinking black coffee and smoking Marlboro 100's. Louis drinks tea with a spot of milk, and doesn't really take smoking to his fancy. Harry is the less fortunate struggling musician who works at the local bakery, playing late nights at the local pub for an extra spot of cash. Louis is the fortunate design student who has everything to live for. Harry unfortunately, does not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, chapter 2! I will try my best to update as recently as possible. I'm thinking maybe Sundays and Mondays, considering those are two fairly easy days for me. Alas being a 16 year old female in high school doesn't allow for much time to do anything but procrastinate and eat pizza, but wish me luck! Please do enjoy this, I'm a shit writer, but I do my best.

The next morning was a migraine at its worst, and Harry groaned, shoving his palms into his eyes. He rubbed at them, willing the numbing pain to go away. When he finally sat up the warm sun coming in from his recently opened window and the gust of fresh air did its best at finally waking him. But it was the snore next to him that frightened him that woke him up more than anything.

Harry slapped Niall across the face with his pillow hard. Niall only groaned and rolled over, flipping him off justly.

Niall normally did this when he came home drunk, or when he brought a bird in he particularly didn't wish to see in the morning. Harry briefly wondered what time Niall had come in.

-

Breakfast came easy as the bacon sizzled in the pan before matted curls. Niall stumbled in at the smell of bacon, and had a seat across from Harry at the bar.

"Mm, morning sunshine." He mumbled, laying his disheveled hair among the countertop.

"Long night?" Harry asked, and Niall nodded against the counter in response.

Harry proceeded to flip the bacon, mumbling a little song to himself that he didn't entirely remember the words to. When the bacon was done he set the pieces along a plate for Niall with some scrambled eggs and set them in front of him. He seemed to perk up at that, blonde tendrils poking out at all angles with a cheery smile. Harry took that in lieu of a "Thanks" and turned off the burner, heading down the hallway, still humming that song he couldn't even seem to remember.  
-

The warm water hit his scalp, trickling down his spine and tingling his back as it fell down. Memories of the night before played behind his eyelids in hazy, quick flashes. It took him a moment to piece a small bit together before he was screaming out the shower curtain.

"Niall!"

When a reply didn't come he tried again.

"Niall! Niall! NIALL!"

A mumbled "What?" came from the other side of the door, and Harry called over the sound of the running water.

"Come in! The doors unlocked."

The bathroom door opened with a click, and Niall huffed as he was enveloped with steam.

"Damn Haz, can you even breathe in here?" Niall didn't bother with shutting the door in fear of suffocating himself.

Harry ignored the question.

"Who is Louis?"

"Louis?"

"Yeah Louis, I met him at the party last night. He was trying to help me find you, said he knew you and two other blokes... Ziam and Layn I think it was."

Niall let out a  long roll of giggles and tried very hard to contain himself.

"They're some friends of mine from Uni." He said finally.

Harry wasn't any less confused.

"Louis said I was _that_ Harry..."

Niall let out another long laugh.

"You sound like it's a crime to talk about your best friends Haz."

The silent uneasiness went on for a while until Niall added, "I just really wanted 'em to meet you."

Harry was still caught on the 'best friends'. He shook his head and turned off the water, grabbing his towel off the loo and wrapping it around himself before opening the shower curtain. He plastered on a cheeky grin and Niall perked up at that. He moved past him to go to his bedroom and Niall followed closely in pursuit.

-

"So... Would you want to meet them?" Niall asked finally as Harry emerged from his closet with a pair of sweatpants clad on his long legs. He didn't respond immediately, and he knew the anticipation was killing the blonde across the room. Harry just shuffled to his windowsill, sitting on the edge, and placing a cigarette between his lips. It lit with a puff and Niall frowned.

Harry shrugged. Niall moved to sit across from him. He had learned long ago not to bother Harry about his smoking.

"Please Haz."

Harry ruffled his hands through Niall's blonde locks with a smirk.

"Your brunette is showing Blondie."

Niall huffed, Harry sighing after a while.

"Fine."

Niall's whole faced seemed to light up at that, tugging Harry into a tight hug.

"You'll absolutely love em, I swear!" Niall beamed, racing out of Harry's bedroom.

It's not that Harry didn't want to meet Niall's friends, that wasn't the problem at all. He didn't really know what the problem was in the first place, okay maybe he did. But he'd never admit to it. Maybe it was just how fast everything had appeared to be going. Harry wasn't used to this. He wasn't used to meeting people and going places. Hell the party he went to the night before had been the first party he'd been to since secondary school, and even then that wasn't a party. Harry Styles didn't have friends. Harry had a sister and a mom and a shitty job and that was about it. So yeah, sue him if he was a little scared Niall considered him a friend. But did that give him a real excuse for being hesitant about the people Niall obviously cared about enough to bring into his life, which in turn meant Niall cared about him even a little? Harry didn't know. He was beginning to feel even more like an asshole as each minute ticked by that he thought about it. So he stopped.

Harry flicked the cigarette butt into the ash tray, and moved to lay on his bed. He ran his fingers through his hair, rubbing at his throbbing temples as he sighed. He thanked heavens that today was a Sunday.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry likes drinking black coffee and smoking Marlboro 100's. Louis drinks tea with a spot of milk, and doesn't really take smoking to his fancy. Harry is the less fortunate struggling musician who works at the local bakery, playing late nights at the local pub for an extra spot of cash. Louis is the fortunate design student who has everything to live for. Harry unfortunately, does not.

Harry had dozed off when he felt his phone vibrate beneath him. It was an alarm he missed that he was less than urgent about, follwed by a text from whom he didn't know.

"Hey there (;"

Harry doubted the winky face was meant to be flirty, but it coaxed him and Harry wondered if this was one of Niall's birds that he had given his number to in a failed try at giving them his own.

"Hello?" He tried, testing the waters before making assumptions.

The reply came minutes later.

"Thanks for spending the night with me. P.S. You're a rather awful dancer."

The last part had confused him, Sunday night had still come in a haze, and he really couldn't remember much dancing at all. It had to have been one of Niall's.

"If you're looking for Niall, sorry to say, but this isn't him."

The next reply came sooner than the last.

"I'm not looking for Niall."

Harry was still confused. If whoever this was wasn't looking for Niall then who was it? The only person Harry could remember spending the majority of that night with was Louis, but this couldn't be him. Why would he of all people want to text him. Harry decided the question couldn't hurt.

"Louis?"

"Bingo."

Harry couldn't help the small smile that eased across his lips.

"You couldn't have just said that?"

"I could have, but that just takes all the fun out of it now, doesn't it?"

Harry sighed as he typed out the next reply.

"I guess so, yeah."

He doubted Louis thought he was any fun. No reply came after that and Harry hid his head in his pillows. He felt exhausted and his head was absolutely killing him. The day before had been long at the bakery, followed by an even longer night full of beers and guitar strings at the local pub. It sucked because it was a slow night, and Harry regreted even having gone in the first place. He barely made 10 pounds.

That being said, Harry wasn't ulitmately ready for the lively blonde that burst through his bedroom door.

"Get up Hazza! We've got things to do!"

Harry mentally rolled his eyes.

"No." He groaned, face still hidden.

Niall tugged at his feet, trying to pull his long legs out of bed. It was no use because Harry was much bigger than Niall, and he smiled thinking about how cute the scene must've been.

"Get Up, get up, get up!" Niall yelled.

"We've got things to do! Places to go! People to see!"

Harry still didn't get up though, and Niall huffed as he left, slaming the door. Less than a minute later his phone vibrated.

"Get up Harry."

It was Louis.

"Why?"

"So you can come and see me."

Harry felt his cheeks burn.

"And who said I wanted to see you?"

"Ouch Harry. Harsh. Get up."

Harry didn't reply as he pushed himself up from his mattress. In his closet was his uniform for work. He discarded his clothing and was careful not to look in a mirror as he pulled on the uniform. When everything was covered and in place he put back his voluminous curls with a headband. He wished the mirror didn't go over his collar bones though, as he caught a glimpse of his face.

Today, he decided, was going to be a long day.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry likes drinking black coffee and smoking Marlboro 100's. Louis drinks tea with a spot of milk, and doesn't really take smoking to his fancy. Harry is the less fortunate struggling musician who works at the local bakery, playing late nights at the local pub for an extra spot of cash. Louis is the fortunate design student who has everything to live for. Harry unfortunately, does not.

What Harry thought was going to be a simple sitdown with Louis that night turned out to be a tripple run in with Liam, Zayn, and Niall as well. He was less than pleased about the pub, and he was even more less than pleased with the loud mouths around him.

He guessed the discomfort on his face had shown as he found a hand resting on his knee, gently squeezing. He seemed panicked at first, but then he met Louis' eyes and he seemed to melt in with the smiles and chatter around him. 

He tuned in to what Niall was saying.

"Yeah, Harry here listens to all sorts of strange stuff! You should ask him about it!"

He was talking to Zayn, and Harry knew that Niall was just trying to get him in on the conversation. Zayn turned to him with warm eyes and a soft smile.

"So you're real into music?"

Harry nodded with a small laugh.

"Yeah, I'm pretty into it I guess."

"Do you play?"

Harry shrugged.

"A bit yeah, Guitar. I'm mostly tied to Acoustic."

Zayn smiled wider.

"Have you played anywhere yet?"

"Sort of... I mean I'm not signed to a label or anything, but I'll play local pubs every now and again."

"Not accounting the secret concerts he plays for me!" Niall added with a laugh, and the rest seemed to laugh with him.

"I'd love to hear you play sometime." Zayn added.

Harry doubted Zayn wanted to hear him play, but the sincerety never left his eyes and Harry held onto that as he produced his own soft smile.

The conversation turned back between the three at the far end of the table, and Harry couldn't help but notice the absent hand trying to find its way towards its match under the table. It was Liam. He held onto Zayn's hand briefly before the waitress returned asking about refills, to which Zayn replied with letting go of Liams hand swiftly and turning away with an awkward blush. Liam rolled his eyes.

Harry thought about it vaguely before the attention was brought back to the hand still on his knee. Harry coughed uncomfortably, and moved his leg slightly, watching the hand fall from it. Louis pulled back, and pretended as if he were putting away his phone.

"I hope you guys don't mind," Louis said after a while.

"But I invited Eleanor to tag along."

Niall smiled, Liam rolled his eyes again, and Zayn huffed. Harry was confused.

"Who's Eleanor?"

Zayn replied before Louis could, as if it were a race to answer the question.

"She's Louis' girlfriend."

Harry didn't know if it was just him, but he felt a whole lot of emphasis on the word girlfriend.

Harry looked to Louis and Louis looked down towards his lap, avoiding his eyes. Harry just didn't get it.

It was more than silent between the lot as the skinny brunette walked over to the table. She wasn't wearing a uniform, so Harry guessed that it must've been Eleanor. He was right, and he couldn't believe his eyes.

This girl was absolutely gorgeous. Long highlighted curls contrasting perfectly with tanned skin and long legs, all tied together with a pink dress and white sandals. She moved to sit between Harry and Louis and he couldn't help but notice how sweet she smelt as well.  She placed a small pink kiss on Louis' lips and Harry looked away.

Saying the air between the group was awkward was a bit of an understatement. Niall seemed to be the only one even slightly happy, and Harry didn't take that as a good sign.

The conversation didn't come easy, what should've been a decent conversation ended up as empty sentences.

All of his current thoughts were jumping around in his head, beating on the walls of his skull and crushing his chest. He excused himself from the table.

The fag's smoke welcomed him as the long puffs dulled the beating in his chest. What did all of this mean? Louis had a girlfriend. Okay, cool. Why did Harry feel so invovled in this then? Harry didn't have a thing for Louis, Harry thought Louis was nice yeah, cool even. But could he go as far as to say he had a crush on him? The words stung. Was he really this childish?

His head was in denial as his chest pounded harder. He was confused, very confused, flustered, and.. wait, flustered? He distracted himself with another puff as the jealousy finally hit him.

He had no right in this game. Louis wasn't his, Louis didn't even know him. Harry didn't even know Louis. But why did it feel like he'd known him all his life? Why did the lingering hand on his knee calm him when it should've done the exact opposite?

Another puff. God, she was so gorgeous. Harry wasn't gorgeous at all. Not even kinda compared to her. She looked like a model, a gorgeous model and Harry was just Harry.

He had no right to be jealous over this.

His cigarette worn down faster than he had intended it too, and he found himself pulling out another and lighting it as well. It had been a while since he'd done that.

"That'll kill you, y'know?"

The voice came from behind him, not scaring him, but the calmness it made him feel shook him to his very core. Louis.

"Yeah? And what do you know?" He hadn't intended it to sound as harsh as it did.

"Enough." Came the reply as the voice moved to stand next to Harry.

Harry tried to pretend he wasn't there, inhaling and exhaling again.

Louis sighs, running a hand through his hair, looking up to stare at the night sky. Tiny stars glittered across it lighting the front of the pubs double doors. Harry loved the night sky when it was like this. Bright, but not too bright. Just enough to see yourself and not hate who you are. They Just had an effect like that. Harry had a million and one questions, but asked Louis none of them.

Louis sighed resting his head on Harry's shoulder, and not even for a second did Harry question it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry likes drinking black coffee and smoking Marlboro 100's. Louis drinks tea with a spot of milk, and doesn't really take smoking to his fancy. Harry is the less fortunate struggling musician who works at the local bakery, playing late nights at the local pub for an extra spot of cash. Louis is the fortunate design student who has everything to live for. Harry unfortunately, does not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight Narry in this one, but Niall's a cutie and who cares. Sorry for lateness, but what can I say, I'm a busy bee.

Even as Wednesday rolled around Harry still questioned Sunday night.  Who was Louis Tomlinson, and why was he so irrevocably attatched to him? No matter how many times he's tried no cig puff could take the thought away or make it weaker, and that scared him. 

Harry couldn't ignore the warm smiles, cute laughs and innocent absent minded touches as the two of them got closer. Every flirty text killed him as he remembered a model body with a coy smile. 

Louis had told him how the met. It was a project for design, and he had needed a model to wear some luxurious dress he'd fashioned. El, as Harry came to call her, was in Louis' class. Louis said he always found her beautiful. When she heard he'd needed a model she was first to sign up. They've been screwing ever since.

Harry didn't understand why his heart hurt him so much to think about it. El was gorgeous and so sweet, she deserves Louis. Louis deserves her. They deserve eachother. 

Harry didn't feel like he deserved anyone.

Not even the sleeping form he nudged next to him. 

Ever since the night at the pub Harry found Niall snuggled into his side almost every night. Not that he minded, he liked having a warm body pressed next to him as he slept. It made him feel comfortable.  Whole.

He couldn't help but feel worried though. Niall never slept with him unless he was drunk. He hated to think there could be the possibility of something wrong. 

Niall woke to Harry's second nudge, and responded by curling further into his warmth. Throwing his arm over Harry's torso and hiding his head in his chest with a groan. Harry laughed slightly and ran his fingers through the blondes disheveled mat.

"You gotta get up love." He said after a while, needing long ago to have stretched his bones. 

Niall groaned again, not coming out.

"Just a few more minutes." he mumbled against Harry's. skin, and Harry gave a laugh wrapping his arms around the adorable irishman in mock surrender.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry likes drinking black coffee and smoking Marlboro 100's. Louis drinks tea with a spot of milk, and doesn't really take smoking to his fancy. Harry is the less fortunate struggling musician who works at the local bakery, playing late nights at the local pub for an extra spot of cash. Louis is the fortunate design student who has everything to live for. Harry unfortunately, does not.

The pub that night was fairly empty, save the barmaids and two drunkards who sat at the bar drinking their lagger. 

Harry was tired, and he knew he should've gone home, but he convinced himself he needed to play this night. Gas money didn't come cheap and besides, Danielle and Perrie (as Harry had come to know them) enjoyed cleaning up the bar to the strum of his guitar. 

He took to the small stage in the corner of the room and climbed its two stairs. Sitting in the center was his barstool and mic, the dense spotlight already trained to hit him perfectly. He flashed the girls over the bar a quick smile before he took his seat. Once he was comfortable, his guitar in lap, he cleared his throat and spoke into the mic. 

"Hi, I'm Harry Styles and this is my cover of Creep by Radiohead." 

Danielle and Perrie clapped as they beamed at him, Harry really didn't understand why though.

The lull of his guitar started sending the room into a bit of a trance as Harry let out a final breath.

When you were here before, couldn't look you in the eyes.

Harry's fingers quivered beneathe him as he strummed, nervousness uneasily hitting him as he tried to focus on the next set of lyrics.

You're just like an angel. Your skin makes me cry. You float like a feather, in a beautiful world. I wish I was special, you're so fucking special.

Harry felt his chest tighten, head starting to sway and spin within his skull. He couldn't make anything out of what was happening.

But I'm a creep. I'm a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here?  When I don't belong here.

The tighter his chest got the more his heart jumped within its girth and he felt as if he would die, breath coming shorter, fingers feeling numb. His eyes watered and he felt his breath starting to catch. 

I don't care if it hurts, I wanna have control. I want a perfect body. I want a perfect soul. 

He was panicking, eyes threatening to pool over the brim. Why? This never happened to him. Harry had gotten over stage fright long ago. 

I want you to notice when I'm not around.

Oh.

You're so fucking special. I wish I was special.

Harry remembered this feeling now. As if you're drowning and can't breath, caught in a sea of your own lies.

But I'm a creep. I'm a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here.

Harry didn't want to think about what he was thinking about. No.  Not here, not now. 

She's running out again. She's running out, she run, run, run, run. Run.

Harry vaguely wondered if he could die from this, head spinning more rapidly as he dizzily tried to make out his surroundings beyond the stage. Everything hurt. Everything. 

Whatever makes you happy. Whatever you want. You're so fucking special. I wish I was special.

Harry wondered if his voice sounded as raw as it felt. He was defeated. Tears wetting his eyelashes and slowly making their descent down his cheeks.

But I'm a creep. I'm a weirdo. What the hell am I doing here? I don't belong here... I don't belong here.

-

The taste in his mouth was awful. Warm bile piled up at the back of his throat as he leaned over the toilet to puke again. Thankfully Niall had headed to school early, considering Harry really didn't need Niall fussing over him at the moment.

Well actually, Harry really didn't need to be puking up the stomach contents he didn't have at the moment. 

He was tired and breathless and had been up since 5 dry heaving. The funny thing was, he hadn't even had a drink at the pub that night to be throwing up now. He didn't even get drunk.

He picked himself up and stood to to look in the mirror. He looked exhausted, black bags carresing his under eyes. He looked tense and squeamish,  as if he didn't have a hope to stand on. He looked sad, lips cracked and eyes hollow and melancholy. His bones jutted out underneath pale skin inky black tattoos. He covered himself, but could still see the hatred within his soul. he tried for a sad smile, and felt instantly as if he were to ralph again.

His hands began to shake at his sides and the familiar beating in his chest had started. He felt his skin crawl, breaking out in a cold sweat. He squeezed his eyes shut tightly, willing it all not to start.

Blindly he reached over and turned out the light. He dared himself to open his eyes again, and when he did the pitch black welcomed him. The beating in his chest slowed down and his skin stopped crawling. The venom in his mouth slithered back down his throat, hidden by his swallow.

"Not this time." he said aloud, opening the bathroom door.

Not this time, but soon. It mocked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hella depressing this one is. Sorry not sorry.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry likes drinking black coffee and smoking Marlboro 100's. Louis drinks tea with a spot of milk, and doesn't really take smoking to his fancy. Harry is the less fortunate struggling musician who works at the local bakery, playing late nights at the local pub for an extra spot of cash. Louis is the fortunate design student who has everything to live for. Harry unfortunately, does not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This ones got some Narry feels in there, and I really don't know where I'm going with it considering this is a Larry based fic. Oh well, cope with me here. It's cute af.

To say it had just been a long week would've been an understatement, and Harry knew that. He knew it as he piled into his shitty flat and into his even shittier bed to mope about his shitty life.

Work had been tough lately, and Harry found himself getting lazier abd lazier as he came home each night, forgetting even to book a few taverns to play in the meantime.

His bed was warm as it enveloped him, soft pillows carressing his face, his curls falling to hide him from the world. He felt comfortable there in his bed. For the first time in weeks he felt normal, free.

But he wasn't and the caller on the other end of his ringing phone reminded him why. 

"Ugh. What?" he answered, tone gruff and annoyed.

"Well someone's chipper today isn't he?"

Harry rolled his eyes. He didn't have the strength to deal with this right now. 

"What do you want Louis?"

"No, see, harsh isn't going to get you anywhere Harry."

He layered his words tinged with sarcasm and flirtation, and Harry really didn't have the strength for this.

"Lou, I'm not in the mood for this shit."

Louis huffed on the other end and instantly Harry regretted the words having left his lips.

"Well alright. Sorry for bothering you. G'nite Harry."

"No Lou, what was it you wanted to tell me."

Harry really couldn't stand this. He was starting to get annoyed. 

"It was nothing Haz. Let it go. Goodnight."

He was trying to be nice, trying to stay calm.

"Louis."

"Fucking drop it Harry, it was nothing."

Harry never realized the uneasiness in his breath or his fingers pressed deep into his palms, knuckles white. 

"For fucks sake Louis, what the mother fuck was so important that you felt the need to fucking call me in the middle of the sodding night?!"

Louis was silent. Harry hadn't noticed he was yelling until after he started, and even then he couldn't stop. The silence had dragged on for a while and once Louis had finally began to speak Harry could physically feel the hurt in his three words.

"Happy Birthday Harry."

Happy Birthday? What in the hell was he going on abou- oh. 

He fumbled with his phone until his trembling fingers were able to bring up the lock screen. 12:30 am,  Febuary 1st. 

Oh.

He felt awful. All Louis wanted to do was wish Harry a good Birthday and all Harry had done was be rude to him. 

Harry wanted to make it better, needed to make it better. But in the past month he's gotten to know Louis. He knows Louis won't reply to his apology texts, no matter how many he sent. He knew he didn't stand a snow balls chance in hell with an upset Louis, not to mention one he caused. So he knew Louis wouldn't even acknowledge the texts, let alone accept them, and calling him back was an option way out of the ballpark. 

Then why did he send them anyways? For what reason was he kissing Louis' ass when he had been the one to agitate Harry in the first place? 

Well he knew he'd been a dick and he knew saying something was better than saying nothing at all, so that's something. Something.

-

The following day sucked even more than the night had, the Fag that puffed between his lips giving him no comfort. 

He had barely slept the previous night, and he tried to ignore the lurch his stomach gave as the smell of waffles wafted through his open door. 

He could vaguely hear Niall humming some new catchy pop tune, imagining his disheveled hair and pearly white smile as he poured the batter onto the waffle iron. 

Upon his entering Niall huffed, as if Harry's entering the kitchen had ruined something. 

"Morning Sunshine." Harry beamed as Niall frowned.

"Not reall morning though, is it?" Niall followed, pointing towards the stove clock.

12:42 pm.

Harrys plastered on smile didn't falter as he ignored Niall's response.

"Beautiful day isn't it?"

Niall didn't respond, pulling a golden waffle off the iron and pouring on a new one. Only three of them had burned, Harry noticed, and he wondered if it had to do with that humming and inconspicuous sway of the blondes hips. 

Harry watched for a bit until his attention was pulled up to the plate of hot waffles and syrup being pushed in front of his face, a single candle expertly placed in the middle. 

"Oy! My eyes are up here." Niall said with a smile, Harry blushing brightly with realization. 

He stared at the single candle in the middle of his breakfast and a look of sadness littered his features. Niall lit the candle, Harry's expression rendered unnoticed by his cheery gaze. 

"Happy 20th Harry!" Niall beamed at him, eyes meeting Harry's. 

Harry noticed the fondness and warmth in Niall's pristine blues and recalled why he loved them so much. Niall placed a small kiss to Harry's forehead and chided him on. 

"Go on love, blow it out. Don't forget to make a wish."

Harry didn't. He never felt more grateful to have Niall in his life than he did now.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry likes drinking black coffee and smoking Marlboro 100's. Louis drinks tea with a spot of milk, and doesn't really take smoking to his fancy. Harry is the less fortunate struggling musician who works at the local bakery, playing late nights at the local pub for an extra spot of cash. Louis is the fortunate design student who has everything to live for. Harry unfortunately, does not.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh, slight smut that's horribly written in this one for you. Enjoy, and don't cringe too much.

The brooding didn't really hit Harry until he remembered Louis phone call from the night before. He checked his phone again, as if for some kind of comic relief, only to be met with an empty inbox. With that he sighed, chucking the phone across the room and onto the bed from where he sat at his window pane. 

God did he feel like an asshole. A big curly headed fuck of an asshole who should cease to exist because he's always screwing everything up. He silently cursed as his empty cigarette carton failed to give him a release. He sighed, maybe Niall would want to go out.   
Upon the idea (which Harry knew was idiotic to begin with), a cringe came with an even shittier mood as he realized Niall did want to go out, but for entirely different reasons. 

"Come on Haz,  it'll be fun! Just the guys." Niall pouted as Harry regretted having come out of the room in the first place. 

"Ugh, Ni, I just kinda wanted it to be us.."

Niall refused to listen, pulling Harry further into their small sitting room, using all of his weight to tug on Harry's hands.

"Hazza please. I'm not going to let you sit around and be miserable on your birthday!"

Niall's eyes were bright and big with concern, face slacken with that look he knew Harry couldn't resist.

Harry rolled his eyes and sighed, allowing Niall to pull him freely to the front door and into his shoes. He knew he was going to regret this as he slung his coat over his shoulder and locked the door behind them.

-

The day had gone by simple enough with not much to do, the boys having left the flat at a quarter to 7. It all started with drinks at the pub like normal, but a little more than usual was probably expected.

So to say by the time they hit the club they were drunk would've been a huge understatement. The club whirred around Harry in dizzy flashes as he brought himself to dance, sandwiched between some bird and his best mate. 

Louis hadn't spoken to him for the entirety of the night, just narrow eyes and empty breaths as get stared at Harry from his brooding corner across the dancefloor, hands all over Eleanor. 

Harry was honestly to drunk to care at this point though, focused more on the pair of hands draped around his neck and the pair of hips grinding into his own.

The music flared,  it was particularly annoying, but the sensation of grinding hips to each beat into him was enough to make him overlook his judgement. 

He ground back, heart deafening his ears as it pounded loudly in his chest, a familiar scent of cinnamon protruding his senses. God, who did that smell like.

He nearly jumped as he realized just who's hands he had wrapped around his neck, his hands snaked around that waist, pulling him closer as they ground out the chorus of yet another flashy song. 

The familiar stark blonde hair came into view, and Harry nearly died. Niall. God, he was grinding against Niall.

He tried to calm himself, the drunken blonde looking up at him with a half smirk and wondrous eyes. 

"Hazz-zz-zz-ah" he slurred, all too much drunk and not enough Niall. 

Harry blinked, nearly unable to think, and even if he could think what would he have done?  His mind was to far gone at this point for him to care, it all just felt so damn nice.

He wanted to feel bad for that, probably should have, but now Niall's mouth was on his neck, all too much teeth and not enough lip, and his mind was doing back flips. 

Niall attempted to suck, giving up to kiss up Harry's neck to whisper in his ear. His voice was low and sultry, Irish accent fogged with alcohol, but not doing his words an injustice.

"Wanna get outta here?" it purred, his hands running down Harry's shoulders and torso, hips still moving forward in consistent movements. 

Harry couldn't find the words in his throat, his tongue felt swollen and his head screamed. He groaned lowly, rolling his hips forward. 

Niall's smirk widened, lacing his hands with one of Harry's. He backed away slowly, coaxing Harry as he pulled him forward with him. The exit was close as they pushed through people eager to get somewhere- anywhere that wasn't a crowded room full of sweaty bodies. 

The air was cold, and the streetlights flickered dimly as Niall pushed through the entrance and dragged them out into the night. 

It was a slight nuisance, but nothing Harry couldn't will himself to get used to as they located Niall's car, Harry pushing him against the drivers side door, lips sloppily locking together.

Niall fumbled with the car keys, trying desperately to unlock the car door blindly, pulling on the latch with his hand as he finally succeeded, falling into the seat and pulling Harry on top of him.


End file.
